


Flowers and Wine

by Karasuno Volleygays (ToBeOrNotToBeAGryffindor)



Series: Sportsfest 2018 [1]
Category: Tennis no Oujisama | Prince of Tennis
Genre: Blood, Feudal AU, Gladiator Sanada, King Yukimura, M/M, Non-Explicit Sexual Content, Violence, but with absolutely no real historical accuracy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-14
Updated: 2018-07-14
Packaged: 2019-06-10 06:36:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,192
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15285843
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ToBeOrNotToBeAGryffindor/pseuds/Karasuno%20Volleygays
Summary: Yukimura Seiichi is a warrior and a king, but he has never met a man quite like Sanada Genichirou: an idealist peasant with a lot to say and even more to offer. With only a week between them and Sanada's probable exit from his life forever, Yukimura wonders what it will take to win over this complicated and beautiful wild creature he invites to his bed every night.





	Flowers and Wine

Yukimura’s eyes droop in boredom as yet another gladiator falls in the arena to the uninspiring champion. It’s the same battle over and over, with the winner dodging and dodging until his opponent does something dull like stumble or slip in a patch of mud.

No longer entertained, he waves a hand, and armed guards charge at the fighters in the ring and remove them both.

Done with being bored by entertainment that no longer amused him, Yukimura stands to leave, but the head of his kingsguard on his right, a quiet man named Yanagi, interjects, “My liege, there is one more contestant you might find more to your liking.”

Yanagi rarely ever speaks out about anything, which gives Yukimura pause. There is a reason Yanagi sits to his right, and Yukimura returns to his seat. “Bring him out, then.”

Gesturing to a foot soldier nearby, Yanagi mutters some instructions, and within a couple of minutes, the gates to the battlefield begin to raise. The first man out is an average looking one, and Yukimura hopes this isn’t the specimen promised him, but as soon as the other emerges, Yukimura knows exactly why this man is favored by his most trusted captain.

Tall and grim-looking, this man is corded shoulders to shins with muscle Yukimura can discern even at a distance. He wears nothing aside from a pair of close-fitting leather chausses over dusty breeches and a wooden shield attached to his arm. He strides out into the ring, never looking away from his opponent, who is already backing away.

He can see why Yanagi champions this man, indeed.

“Who is he, Renji?” Yukimura leans over the railing of his private box and watches his new favorite thing closely. “And why did I have to watch that other pathetic excuse for a warrior when you had him?”

Yanagi joins Yukimura at the rail and mimics his pose. “His name is Sanada, and I was debating whether to have him executed or not.”

“Why?” Yukimura chuckles. “You never dither about executing people. I daresay you rather enjoy it.”

“He definitely broke the law, but I was intrigued by why he did it.” At Yukimura’s questioning look, Yanagi supplies, “One of my less than disciplined men tried to have his way with the man’s sister without asking her permission first, and Sanada snapped his neck with his bare hands and dropped the body on the steps of the guardhall.”

Yukimura’s eyes widen. “I see why you’re interested. So what have you decided?”

“I will give him the chance to win his freedom.” Yanagi gestures toward the ring. “If he can survive a week as the champion, he can walk out of this place and never look back with the assurance that none of my men will bother him and live to tell about it.”

Watching Sanada’s proud, confident movements as he squares up to fight his now-cowering opponent, Yukimura murmurs, “I hope he wins.”

The rest of the evening is filled with the sounds of Sanada slaughtering half a dozen challengers. Fighting in the arena has always been voluntary and the prizes enough to set a man who manages to survive it for life, so Yukimura doesn’t mourn the fallen warriors. Instead, he gives his entire attention to the man felling them.

When the spectacle ends, Yukimura stands and says, “Have him brought to me.”

“Of course, my liege.” Yanagi bows and moves to fill Yukimura’s request himself. Yukimura appreciates the gesture, because Yanagi knows what he wants and will make sure it is delivered.

Back in his chambers, Yukimura returns to his two most favored servants working in the outer room. Fuji is minding the vast array of plants, and Marui is putting the finishing touches on the spread for Yukimura’s dinner.

“You may both go.” Yukimura inspects one of Fuji’s more exotic acquisitions — something called a cactus, which is untouchable due to its spiny nature but all the more beautiful because of the fact. “Excellent work, Fuji. If you ever want to bring more of these, please do. They’re fascinating.”

“I’m glad you like them, my lord.” Fuji grins, and Yukimura still can’t decide whether the man is happy or plotting to kill him. Probably both. It’s one of the reasons Yukimura finds him interesting.

Marui bows and gestures toward the dining table. “I made your favorite tonight, my liege. Fresh caught this morning and roasted over a cherry wood fire.”

“Wonderful. Thank you, Marui.” He ruffles Marui’s hair, an intimate gesture he reserves only for people who deeply please him, and Marui particularly enjoys this treatment. “I’ll see you both tomorrow.”

His servants leave, and five minutes later, his newest fascination arrives. A frowning Yanagi brings a still-filthy Sanada in tow, blood splattered all over his chest and trousers. Yukimura has an inkling that Yanagi had told Sanada to clean up and the man had refused. However, as Yukimura’s gaze rakes over Sanada’s hard, taut body, he is glad for the lack of hygiene. It will be all the more fun later, he reckons.

“Thank you, Renji. You can wait outside.”

Yanagi’s eyes widen at the request. “My liege, you should not be alone with murderers.”

Yukimura harrumphs. “I’ve been alone with you often enough. Lo and behold, I’m still alive.” He circles Sanada in fascination, taking in every strand of exposed muscle, his hunger having nothing to do with the feast of his favorite meal waiting a few steps away. “Good night, Renji.”

Reluctantly, Yanagi withdraws from the room, and neither of them watch him leave. Once they’re alone, Yukimura meets Sanada’s steely gaze and asks, “Do you know why you’re here?”

“I have an idea.”

“Good.” Nodding in approval, Yukimura gestures toward the table. “Come, join me for a meal. I did send my chef and taster off for the night, so I hope you don’t mind doing it in his stead.”

“As you wish.” Sanada takes a spot to Yukimura’s right and bows his head in prayer. Yukimura is surprised but oddly pleased that someone as proud as Sanada still adheres to some sort of greater power, even if it doesn’t happen to be either the laws of the kingdom or the man who reigns over it.

They consume the meal in relative silence. Yukimura takes his fill, but he notes that Sanada eats sparingly, portions small and simple. “You should eat more. It will be a long, grueling week for you.”

“I can’t do that.” Sanada crosses his arms. “How many of your subjects go hungry every night so you can eat this way?”

Yukimura’s face darkens at Sanada’s words. “You forget yourself.”

“I assure you, I do not.” Sanada curls his lip in distaste. “If you bothered to set foot in the villages around the palace, you’d see how many children starve to death right outside your doorstep and you don’t even notice, let alone care.”

Setting down his goblet of wine, Yukimura stands and heads for the door. Outside, he gestures to Yanagi. “Renji, have Marui brought to me at once.”

Yanagi obliges, and in under five minutes, his chef is once again bowing to him. “Marui, do you have time for a quite extensive task tonight? You can take the morning off if you do.”

“Of course!” Marui casts a nervous glance toward the meal he had already prepared. “Is it not to your taste?”

“It’s to your usual high standard, I assure you.” Yukimura eyes the excess and adds, “I’ve just been informed, however, that it is far too much and an irresponsible waste to give one man so much to eat when others have so little.”

Marui gawks. “But you are a king. It’s your duty.”

“I am a king, but my duty is to the kingdom, not myself.” He catches a glance at Sanada’s surprised face and grins in satisfaction. “I’d like you to comb through the kitchens and take all but the necessities out into the surrounding villages and make sure everyone who can see the palace from their home has a good meal tonight.”

Turning to Yanagi, he adds, “Renji, please have your men assist.”

Shocked but ever obedient, both of them move to comply, and Yukimura resumes his seat at the table. “I should do that more often. It’s easy to forget about the fortunes of common folk when I’m rarely allowed to see them outside of visiting the arena.”

“They’re your subjects.” Sanada finally begins to eat with more gusto. “You should know them better than you know yourself.”

Yukimura chuckles. “I should have you executed for your complete lack of respect, but god help me, I think I actually enjoy it.”

The meal concludes, and Yukimura moves toward his private baths, indicating that Sanada should follow. He relishes the stormy look that elicits while he sheds his clothing. In the bathroom, Yukimura starts the water tap and waits for it to run warm.

Once it begins to fill, he looks over his shoulder at Sanada and says, “Please, do join me.”

“You ask so sweetly, but there is no kindness in your voice, Your Grace.” Sanada crosses his arms, making no move toward the bath. “You speak as if I have any choice but to obey.”

Yukimura chuckles. “Kindness is a weakness I can ill afford, Sanada.” Sinking into the water, he hums in pleasure as the heat of the water envelope him. “And if you think I'm ordering you to sleep with me, I assure you I am not. I don't need coercion for that. It's why rape is punishable by death. That law is why you're still alive.”

“Lord Yanagi said as much.” Sanada sits on the rim of the tub and crosses his arms. “So, what do you want from me?”

Moving over to make room, Yukimura replies, “At the moment, I just request the pleasure of your company.”

Sanada’s brow knits in thought. “Why?”

Closing his eyes to the soporific steam coiling from the bath, Yukimura murmurs, “You are an enigma to me. I'm curious about a man willing to kill people who have never wronged him in the arena to save his own life.”

“Gladiators are fools.” Sanada’s lip curls in disgust. “I'm fighting for my life so I can take care of my family. What do they fight for other than making a spectacle of themselves or a bag of gold?”

“What indeed.” Yukimura crooks his finger at Sanada. “Join me. The water is nice.”

A hint of red blooms on Sanada’s cheeks. “I'm covered in blood, Your Grace.”

“Being a king isn't just wine and roses, Sanada. Real power is paid for in blood.” Looking pointedly at the water, Yukimura adds, “I've fought in three wars. I've personally killed more men than you even know, and I've wrung blood from my tunic like water. I have more scars than I can count. I think I can handle a little dirt.”

Looking abashed, Sanada sheds his garments and lowers himself into the bath next to Yukimura. He flinches when Yukimura picks up a washcloth and starts to wipe away the grime. “Don't be shy. You don't have anything I've never seen before.”

Sanada is still tense but no longer pulls away from Yukimura’s touch. Yukimura marvels at the power caged beneath Sanada’s golden skin. “So, what do you do for a living other than killing would-be rapists?”

“I'm a farmer.” When Yukimura’s nails glance down the length of his spine, Sanada shivers. “For someone who claims he isn't trying to get me to sleep with him, you seem set on doing just that.”

“Do you dislike the way I touch you?” When Sanada doesn't answer, Yukimura’s hands immediately withdraw. “If you're that uncomfortable, you can leave. No one will stop you, and you'll never be brought here again unless you wish to be.”

Sanada is silent for a long, turgid minute before he says, “I'll stay.”

“Excellent.” Yukimura picks the washcloth back up and resumes his ministrations.

When the water becomes too cold for comfort, Yukimura steps out of the tub. Not bothering with a robe on the hot summer night, he opts instead to recline on the bed. Sanada lurks in the corner awkwardly, eyeing his soiled clothing with a troubled expression, and Yukimura chuckles.

He pulls a cord at his bedside, and in seconds, a manservant appears in the room. “What can I do for you, Your Grace?”

“Please find Sanada some fresh clothing and get the rest cleaned.” The servant bows, unfazed by a second naked man in the room, and moves to carry out his orders. “I assume your aversion to my power doesn't include laundry service.”

Sanada looks away, and Yukimura can swear he spies contrition on his solid features. 

“If you do care to join me, I certainly won't object.” Patting the bed beside him, Yukimura raises a brow and doesn't hide his smirk when Sanada warily approaches. “I'm glad you decided to stay.”

Sanada wordlessly slides onto the bed, on his back and staring at the ceiling. Yukimura shakes his head. “If you would rather sleep, that's fine. You would be missing out. I'm told I'm an excellent lover.”

Sanada snorts. “Of course you have. Who in their right mind would tell you otherwise?”

“You.” Sanada sits up straight and trains his gaze on Yukimura, his eyes consuming every stretch of pale flesh but his hands securely tucked in at his sides. Yukimura drifts his fingers up the curve of his hip. “You _are_ allowed to touch me.”

With a growl, Sanada ravenously explores Yukimura’s flesh. His motions are neither skilled nor intuitive, but his lack of experience is wholly mitigated by delicious noises that pour out of him when Yukimura finds those secret spots that make his heart pound. 

The next morning, Sanada leaves for the arena and Yukimura soon follows. He hadn't planned on spending his day there, but the idea of Sanada being killed by some anonymous peasant and finding out from someone else doesn't sit well with him.

A parade of his council members flow in and out of his private box at the arena, and the kingdom manages to remain intact despite his taxmaster’s proclamation that it would perish in Yukimura's absence. 

His annoyance is assuaged by Sanada returning to his chambers that night -- once again crusted with blood, sweat, and dirt but less apprehensive about sharing a bath. His lovemaking efforts improve with every movement, and after a few days, Yukimura doesn't hesitate to admit that Sanada makes his toes curl in ways he has rarely experienced.

The best part of their nights together, however, are the hours spent talking deep into the night. Yukimura talks about his mother who lives in the palace with him, and Sanada offers up a brief family history of his parents, his sister, and himself, who live outside the city farming vegetables.

The final day of Sanada’s sentence arrives, and Yukimura is troubled by it. After he survives in the arena for that one final day of battle, Sanada will leave for his farm and will probably never set foot in the palace again.

Battles drag on all day, with Sanada besting his opponents as usual. That pattern doesn't change until the final battle of the night. Sanada's opponent is a mountain of a man, his fists raining down on Sanada's wooden shield like boulders. 

After a full week of constant fighting, even Sanada's energy begins to flag and fail against the relentless bombardment. Yukimura’s heart thrashes in his chest as he watches Sanada stumble and fall. His large opponent swaggers over to Sanada's sprawled form, his mouth running with what Yukimura assumes are taunts about how he will be the new champion. 

Yukimura’s feet move of their own accord. He vaults over the rail of his private box and lands in the middle if the aisle amidst a sea of surprised peasants. Yanagi’s disapproving voice doesn't quite make it that far, but Yukimura knows it's there; he just doesn't care.

When he lands in the dirt of the ring, he rolls into a run and tears across the distance between them. Yukimura crouches low behind his large target and launches himself up to latch his limbs around the man.

His hands gripping the jaw and the side of the head, Yukimura twists with a swift and brutal movement. The neck snaps with a sickening crack, and Yukimura yanks the falling body to the side just enough to miss Sanada. He goes along for the ride while the man drops lifelessly into the dirt. 

Sanada's shocked gaze meets Yukimura's, mouth stupidly hanging open at the display. Unmindful of the audience, he clutches Sanada to his chest and sighs in relief. 

“Why did you do that?” Sanada growls. “Now I'll be stuck in this godforsaken arena until I die.”

Shaking his head, Yukimura chokes out a laugh. “I think I have some say in that.” He moves to an arm’s length and runs a thumb along Sanada's dirt-crusted jaw. “I would appreciate it if you managed not to die. I'm quite taken with you, Sanada Genichirou.”

Sanada looks away, his eyes squeezing shut as he sighs heavily. “I can't stay with you. I have a duty to my family.”

“I know.” Yukimura covers Sanada's balled up fist with his own, giving it a tight squeeze. “But if you wanted to stay here, I can make arrangements for your entire family. Your father can have oversee the farm and have plenty of money to hire people to do the work for him.”

“And how is that?”

Yukimura smiles broadly. “Because Renji could use a man with your raw talents in his ranks, and I pay people of that value ridiculously well.”

Sanada averts his gaze and frowns. “And what of when you tire of me and move on to your next conquest? How will I care for my family then?”

“You have a duty to the ones you love, and so do I.” Reeling back into the dirt, Sanada’s jaw hinges wide open and he gapes at Yukimura. He reaches out and tucks Sanada’s mouth shut with a nudge of his fingers. “It’s sweet when you don’t know what to do with me.”

Yukimura stands and helps Sanada to his feet, but the moment they’re both upright, Sanada kneels low at Yukimura’s feet. “My liege.”

He tugs Sanada back to his feet and takes his hand. “My love.” Brushing his lips against the knuckles, Yukimura eyes the ring’s exit. “If you don’t mind, I believe I’ve had my fill of this place today.”

Sanada gives a curt nod, and the two of them exit the arena side by side amidst a sea of shocked whispers and blank stares. Yukimura doesn’t pay them any mind. The only person he speaks to is a gobsmacked guard who he orders to make sure the fallen gladiator’s family are well taken care of for their sacrifice. Everything else can wait.

After all, he is a king and a warrior, the protector of this realm. Sanada is his and he is Sanada’s, and together, they will be unstoppable.


End file.
